The Seven Tanabatas
by Illyrian Lassie
Summary: The seven most significant 7th Julys for Ichigo and Orihime, from all stages of their life. From before they were born to when they were old and wrinkly. Written and placed second for the Second Annual Tanabata Festival. One shot.


**The Seven Tanabatas**

* * *

**Author's note:**

This fic was written as my entry for the Second Annual Tanabata Festival held over at the Five Livetime, One Love forums dedicated to the blooming relationship between Ichigo and Orihime, and was placed second! Woo!

Special thanks to my friend ch1mera who was my last minute beta, and all of my fellow IchiHime lovers who had been such a great fun and made the shipping experience an unforgettable affair.

**Warning: **

Original characters (insignificant), future prospect of IchiHime, and the past which we had never seen, one-shot.

* * *

_7__th__ July 1992_

Masaki panted, and forced herself to think of her husband, and only her husband.

"He will be here for me," she half-whispered, half-breathed those words.

"He's coming back."

Sitting on her back, using her right arm to hold the handle of the armchair she took support on, Masaki massaged the massive lump that was her stomach, hoping for dissipation in the pains that throbbed in the area between her legs. It was the third time of the day, and she sensed that child in her body was aching to reach the world and take a grasp of the wondrous adventures that the world had to offer.

Gently rubbing the swollen area, she whispered a soft message. "You surely are enthusiastic, aren't you? Don't worry, my child, the time will soon come." Her angelic voice resounded with warmth, as though the unborn child could really hear her.

Regaining her composure, she noticed that her breathings regulated itself after such simple speech to her child. Inhaling deeply, she raised her body and positioned herself into proper sitting posture for the heavily pregnant. Her panting turned into slow breathing, and then someone whose presence she craved so very much appeared along the clumsy sound of opened door and hastened footsteps.

"Masaki!" Isshin's dropped the grocery bag at the sight of his wife, worn out and exhausted. He ran to her, placing his arms on her shoulder, and gently massaging her.

"Are you ok?" Masaki looked over to her husband, and realized that he had a worried look on his face that would be shown whenever she was in a pinch, and she found it strangely endearing that she was seeing more of those faces. Perhaps it was because of the approaching days of her labour, or perhaps also because he was about to welcome his child to the world.

"You scared me, Masaki! I rushed back after hearing a sound of something falling, and it was such a fortunate thing that I was nearby!"

Masaki gave her husband a weak smile, while he wiped the sweats off her forehead using a tissue he took from the little packet he kept in his pocket at all times.

"I'm alright, darling. Ichigo just kicked me, you see."

Isshin gave her a puzzled look.

"Masaki, why would a strawberry be strong enough to kick you?"

Such a simple question, yet it rejuvenated Masaki like no other prescription would, and she burst out laughing.

"It's the name I want for this child, darling. The one who protects."

Isshin placed his hand over to Masaki's massive stomach, and spoke, "But if it is a girl, it would be kanji for strawberry, alright?"

* * *

Two blocks away from the Kurosaki household, Inoue Sora was rudely awakened by the sound of broken glasses, which may have resulted from the intentional clashing of something towards a hard, solid surface (which was most likely the wall or the cabinets) by either one of his parents. His copy of Shonen Jump that was lying on top of his face while he dozed off dropped to his side.

"You whore!" A male voice shouted. His father.

A series of female sobs followed. His mother.

"Why must I listen to you? The child is coming out soon, and you are still drinking!"

That afternoon he opened the door to his house, and to his no surprise, it was his father sleeping on the couch in the middle of the horribly messy living room. Bottles of alcohols with various amounts of liquid strewn all over, and dirty utensils were piling up on the stool between the couch, in addition to the unruly kitchen where he could swear he just saw a cockroach crawled over a plate on the table.

Sighing, he headed to his room, and locked the door behind him, trying to mask his presence as far as possible. He figured that there was ever going to be war, he would be best suited in the espionage, as his insignificance in the house had trained him to be an expert in being overlooked – then again, such cases only applied to his parents.

Looking at his watch, he realized that he had to be ready for his part-time job that would be starting in less than an hour. He was lucky that his parents pay little or no attention to him, or else they would be enraged at his secret engagements – which were two part-time jobs, one for the weekdays and one for the weekends. He understood that he could probably survive with just his weekend job, but he needed more money for the sake of his financial foundation. After all, he needed a house to live in, and he would have to feed more than just himself.

His mother was 8 months pregnant, and no matter what happened, or who may enter his life in a matter of weeks, he wouldn't let him or her suffer by the hands of their screwed-up parents. He would be the two of them, at least for his younger sibling.

Such had always been the last in his mind before he willed himself for another few hard hours at work, and they reiterated themselves while he climbed over his window and jumped towards the street.

* * *

_7__th__ July 1997_

Apparently even the premonition of an earthquake did nothing to deter the Karakura-wide Tanabata celebration. The public park was filled with men and women of all ages dressed in yukatas gawking at the colourful sky. Some elderly ones exulted in the passing of another blissful and peaceful world; adults relaxed from the rare escapades from the hectic schedule of working life; young adults and teenagers hoping and wishing for the best of the other half; and children shouting in excitement for the joyous occasion.

Ichigo was watching the fireworks with his family – his mother the nearest and his father cradling the two toddlers of that were his twin sisters within his large manly laps. Ichigo loved watching the fireworks, because by looking at them all that he hated about sunset dissipated. He would think that sunset is nothing in its sadness when the night sky bestowed them, the earthlings such spectacularly magical display.

"Kaa-chan," 5-year old Ichigo called his mother.

Masaki turned to him, and her smiles lit up alongside the fireworks display.

"Yes, Ichigo?"

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Ichigo asked his mother.

"As long as Ichigo likes it, anything will be beautiful," she patted his head.

* * *

Approximately three kilometres away, Inoue Orihime sat in the couch of her home, hugging herself on the knees. She was petrified by the explosions, and begged more than ever for her brother to come home.

Another blast of explosion resonated massively and Orihime finally gave in; she screamed for her brother.

"Onii-chan!"

As though a fairy had heard her prayers, her brother immediately showed up in front of her, and carried her within his arms.

"What's wrong, Orihime?"

Orihime, overjoyed in finally seeing her brother, cried on his shoulder. "It was..scary, Onii-chan…."

"Everything was so loud! I was scared that anything would happen to you."

Inoue Sora cackled, and brought her to the window of the apartment.

"Look, Orihime, it's nothing dangerous." Her little tears were drying up.

'It's Tanabata, Orihime!"

She immediately was awed by the visuals so much that she had forgotten that she just cried for the sound they made earlier on. However, she managed to tell her brother, "It's pretty, Onii-chan!"

Sora whispered a silent apology for being late for his sister, and making her cry. He knew that she didn't need to hear them and more so after seeing her sweet smile – and the fact that she was so understanding even as a child astonished him. For some guilty reasons, he loved that he single-handedly raised her into such a pleasing persona, yet hated that she was forced to be so considerate for himself.

"We shall go to the park for the next Tanabata, ok?" Sora ruffled his sister's hair.

Her eyes, transfixed on the sky, just agreed with him.

* * *

_7__th__ July 2008_

"What, today?" Ichigo practically shouted at Mizuiro. That was saying a lot, seeing that the default volume of his voice is equivalent to the growl of normal male teenagers.

Mizuiro didn't even look like he knew what blasphemous notions he had just suggested to Ichigo, and was being as nonchalant as ever.

"Oi, calm down, Ichigo." Keigo was ever fearing the short fuse that was Ichigo. "Mizuiro was just suggesting it, Ichigo, there is no need to be so angry."

Keigo turned his attention to Mizuiro now that he realized how futile it was to defuse Ichigo's rage.

"Say something, Mizuiro!"

Mizuiro took another slurp from his juicebox, while keeping his paces ahead of Ichigo and Keigo.

"Think about it, Ichigo, it should be natural for you. Tonight will be one of the best chances to do it."

"You must be joking! What if she said no-"

"So the only thing you fear is rejection. I see." Mizuiro interrupted Ichigo's burst of disagreements.

"No! Definitely no! I mean, why would I even think of doing such a thing-"

"Not after you actually confessed to thinking of the possibilities of being rejected?"

Mizuiro must have worked out his wonder, for Ichigo had started to try calming down in order to avoid falling into verbal traps that he may set for the purpose of interrogating him.

"I don't know, it's like she's really nice to everyone, and I am just a punk…."

"Nice enough to let you kiss her with smothering passion in the PE storeroom while we were all working on the selection for the class representatives for the next sports festival?"

This time it was Keigo who spoke, and Ichigo swallowed a large chunk of salive into his throat.

"Looks like secret's out, Ichigo," the three of them stopped walking altogether, and were staring at Ichigo's scarlet face.

"Just do it."

Should he, or should he not? To Ichigo, that is the question that holds the key to resolving his floating love life. To be honest with himself, she couldn't be called his girlfriend yet, because he hadn't really confessed his feelings to her, and everything that happened were actually actions that he executed at the spur of the moment. Maybe he will try speaking them out; after all, the mood was going to be perfect.

"By the way, Keigo," Mizuiro starting to pace, signifying that they should get moving.

"What were you doing in the PE storeroom when all of us except a certain two people were busy in the class for some official business?"

Keigo looked as though he was stoned at the sight of Ichigo looking like a bull, ready to charge at him.

* * *

A few hours later, Orihime was walking home in ecstasy after the festival concluded with Tatsuki, her best friend.

"So how was it, Orihime?" Tatsuki noticed that the flushed red hue on Orihime's face hadn't been showing signs of fading for the past hour, and she knew that something really, really good must happened to her while they left her and Ichigo alone at his request.

"Did you guys kiss?"

She dropped her fan in a startled reaction, and started flailing senselessly.

"That wasn't what happened, Tatsuki-chan!!" She jabbered away, repeating the same sentence over and over.

Tatsuki shifted the sleeve of her yukata to reveal her muscular arm, and placed it over Orihime's shoulder.

"Whatever it is, tell me later, alright?"

It wasn't as though Tatsuki didn't know anything – she was one-third of the spying trio that specialized in stalking Orihime and Ichigo, and she had to admit that today's was the most unproductive spying work she ever did with Keigo and Mizuiro. There was no physical touch, no kissing or even almost kisses, and there was no hand-holding. Both of them only talked, albeit shyly, to each other and then they just smiled to each other. She half-expected a kiss beneath the tree with flower petals falling. The most romantic atmosphere they had conjured up, and yet that Ichigo did nothing.

Nevertheless, he wasn't as dense as they thought he was. They had in the past few months of spying, found out that they kissed in the most unexpected locations, such as the deserted classroom after school's over, in her house after he walked her home, and also, the PE storeroom just the day before, while they were all having a meeting in the class. Using toilets as excuses, both disappeared one after another and ended up kissing – at least that was what they thought.

Whatever happened, Tatsuki was certain of one thing – the whole Karakura high would go wild at one specific rumour being confirmed tomorrow.

Oh, and another – her days as a sneaky spy for her best friend was finally over.

* * *

_7__th__ July 2017_

Ichigo drove pass the row of shops, and turned left towards the newly developed area, only to be left in dismay at the sight of the exasperating distance that the traffic jam had extended to.

"Dammit!" He pulled his hand brake up, and cursed himself while hitting on the steering wheel. He looked at his watch anxiously, and he was half an hour away from the designated time to meet his date for the evening.

And he had to be stuck in the traffic jam.

Just because he left something inside his office.

He would have reached the restaurant 15 minutes ago, but he realized that he forgot to bring something, and he immediately rushed to retrieve it.

Drivers all around him were getting impatient. The old man on his north east began honking at a van who was trying to intercept the line; and before long, as the van persisted, everyone started to honk as well. All hell broke lose, and everyone started honking for no apparent reason just because the traffic looked frozen, and it could be hours before they reach their destination.

Ichigo reached a decision. He reversed his car, and headed the other direction, and began a frantic hunt for a jewelry shop.

* * *

"Marry you?' Orihime stuttered.

Her boyfriend was on his knees, just right after he asked the question.

Everyone in the restaurant had apparently heard her question, and turned their attention towards them. The man who's kneeling in front of his girlfriend, trying to propose to her, and the woman who's contemplating whether to accept or not.

It shouldn't have come off as a surprise to her – after all they had been going out for almost a decade – but it was a huge one for her. She had imagined them getting married, and him proposing to her, heading off to a romantic honeymoon somewhere near the Caribbean Sea, but seeing it happening in front of her very own eyes created a feeling of surrealism. It was there, and yet it was not there.

In the midst of such a beautiful moment, she was somewhat ashamed of herself for ever doubting his intentions, even for that few seconds where she anxiously trying to figure out reality from fantasy.

She answered the one that she had in her mind all along.

And the crowd in the restaurant cheered in jubilance.

* * *

_7__th__ July 2030 _

"I'm sorry?" Ichigo, even at the age of 38 never really mastered the art of suppressing his short temper. Speaking in English to an agent in the United States, he was in the middle of a negotiation.

"I'll be returning back to Japan in a few days, Mr. Blackstone. It will be impossible to extend my stay here as the flight is already full. Couldn't you please work something out with Harper's publication?"

He paced along his hotel room nervously, abandoning his current work on his laptop.

He resumed talking on the phone with Blackstone. "Yes, of course I understand. However, under such terms that was agreed when we first made the contract, I could sue you for the violation of an agreed consensus, and that may cause us both troubles. Please tell the boss of yours, that I would have to need a new deal concerning this matter-"

An alert on his laptop distracted him from his current phone conversation.

"Otou-san!" His son, the 10-year-old Sora yelled his name, and he can see his daughter, the 7-year-old Masaki on the screen, via the webcam. His wife, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Ichigo wanted to end the exasperating phone conversation more than ever now.

"How's Lisbon, Otou-san?" the chirpy Masaki appeared on the screen. Apparently she was nearer.

Ichigo approached his laptop, and put a finger to his lips, while covering the phone, motioning to them that they will have to be a little quiet because he was on the phone.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blackstone, I have an urgent business to attend to. Could I call you back in an hour or so?"

The other side of the line could be heard slamming the phone.

For Ichigo, nothing could top his family in terms of importance, especially when he was about to wish his children the best of Tanabata festival for the first time away from home.

* * *

Orihime was washing dishes in the kitchen, and it was after a hefty meal in conjunction with the Tanabata festival. She had learned to cook normally for the whole of her marriage life with Ichigo. It was now safe to assume that her food were perfectly healthy and nutritious.

She heard a commotion from a distance, and it came from the living room. Her two children might have been playing too much again, she thought. Sora, typical as a big brother, loved his sister to bits, but also enjoyed teasing her from time to time, and had no qualms of making her cry – but he always beg for her forgiveness in many ways after that.

There was once where he accidentally broke Masaki's portable Playstation, and he actually went all out to save up his allowances to get her the latest version of the same model. There was also once where he carried her home after he caused her to fall on her knees. Orihime also remembered that Sora had beaten up a gang of bullies who were planning to steal Masaki's things, but ended up getting hurt, even after Ichigo had taught him some self-defense skills. He was so embarrassed after that, he trained in secret so that he could show Masaki that he's still her hero. Orihime had, many times, shivered at the thought of how similar Sora was to Ichigo – even though he was named after her brother.

She wiped her hands using a dry cloth, and could finally understand the source of the commotion – they were talking to their father who's in Portugal at the moment!

Thinking that she had once again, lost to her children in a mock battle of wits, she rushed towards them, thinking of a punishment for each of them.

* * *

_7__th__ July 2046_

The emergency light that indicates the labour operation on the surgery room dimmed, and swiftly diminished, signifying that it was all over. From the hallway Ichigo could hear the distant sound of wheels rolling, and some rushing footsteps.

The door to the surgery room finally opened, and a doctor approached Ichigo and his son Sora, and his son-in-law Sousuke.

"Congratulations, Masaki-san just gave birth to a healthy girl."

Sora embraced his brother-in-law, and both men were happy beyond words. Ichigo went to his daughter, and he can't help noticing the striking resemblance towards Orihime that Masaki bore – and his mind immediately traveled to the moment when she laid on the bed after giving birth to Masaki herself.

Ichigo felt a sense of accomplishment ran inside him, as though he just passed another stage in his life, and with Masaki, it was seeing her with his granddaughter. His legacy continued within his children, and what just welcomed to the world was what would Ichigo leave behind after his life comes to an end.

He cursed himself for such morbid thoughts in the midst of such a celebration, but he can't blame himself. After all, Orihime's health is failing, and her sight was now working within the bare minimum of the human's capacity. He had wished that she could set her sights on their newborn grandchild, and see it for herself how they had been blessed all those years.

Tearing his mind away from his ailing wife, he faced his daughter. "What will you name her?"

* * *

"Arent you the sweetest thing, Haruhi?" Orihime miraculously cradling the infant within her arms, Ichigo close by supervising her.

She couldn't see as clearly as before, but her sense of intuition never failed her. Ichigo had objected to her touching the baby by herself, but she insisted. She wanted to hold her grandchild close to her heart, especially when this was their first grandchild. She trusted in her own sharp intuition, and true enough, she could still hold the newborn in her arms.

"Are you alright?" Ichigo's aged face screwed up with concern.

"It's ok, don't worry." Orihime answered him.

She couldn't see Haruhi the baby properly, but she could roughly make out her features by running her fingers across her little face, and the first thing that struck was how much her forehead resembled Ichigo. She knew that it was virtually impossible for a resemblance in foreheads whatsoever, but she had a feeling that the ratio was the exactly like Ichigo, which was inherited to Masaki. Orihime had always found it strange for a girl to have a man's forehead, but for Masaki, it made her look far more intelligent than she really was, so Orihime wasn't really complaining.

"Ichigo, she looked like you," Orihime addressed her husband.

Ichigo's face lit up with pride, as though looking like him would immediately make Haruhi a genius.

"Her forehead, I mean," Orihime continued her sentence.

Ichigo looked demented, but that didn't deter Orihime from giggling over the timeless short fuse that was her husband, and the whole room broke out laughing.

Which made Haruhi whimpered and cried because the commotion woke her up from her baby sleep.

* * *

_7__th__ July 2060_

"Otou-san, please be honest, do you need help?" Sora called Ichigo from another town where he was not residing.

Ichigo answered him, "No, I may be old, Sora, but I can still do this, trust me."

"Go for your family, Sora. I want to spend tonight with your mother."

"Otou-san, we absolutely understood Kaa-san's condition and I am still holding Ishida's offer to nurse her in the best facilities in Tokyo so that you don't have to travel so far."

"She's not a burden to me, Otou-san."

Ichigo sighed. His son didn't get him. He wasn't trying to get in the way of healing Orihime, but he was really reluctant to let Orihime stay where he couldn't see her for most of the day. He hated the pungent smell of the medicines in the hospital, and he knew that Orihime didn't fancy it too much, even though she wouldn't admit it. So what if the hospital provides better therapy, he wanted her by his side, and she didn't object.

However, this conversation with his son made him realize the degree of selfishness in his actions. He might have thought of what is best for him by compromising her interests rather than purely the best for her.

"I'll think about it." He ended the conversation.

Glancing towards his sleeping wife, Ichigo's heart sunk with an emotion that was a mixture of misery and possessiveness. His wife couldn't see anymore, and he feared that she will leave him soon, even though all other parts of her were healthy. He bent over and held her hand, regretting every single wrongdoing that he committed towards her, remembering every smile she ever gave him – and cherishing every one of those times when he knew that he owned her heart.

* * *

"Moving, why?" Orihime asked Ichigo while he pushed her in her wheelchair towards the public park where the celebration will take place soon.

"So that you can live inside the hospital and you can have access to the latest treatment, and wouldn't be so tired from traveling." Ichigo pushed her, within a large crowd.

"But you don't like the hospital," Orihime objected. Not being able to see, she took his wrist when she had meant to take his hand.

"It's alright, I will move nearer to the hospital."

"But you wouldn't be able to see me so often," Orihime faced down towards the ground, though technically she wouldn't be able to see anything.

"Orihime…" Ichigo didn't know what to answer her. Things were weird now that they were both wrinkly old people, with nothing but themselves and some days of hardship caused by the deteriorating body. He could see that he had grown far more possessive of her these days, topping even the times when they were teenagers and she was a hot commodity in their high school. Or perhaps he was now beginning to fear the worst.

He feared that he might lose her anytime now.

He dreaded the day when their separation was inevitable.

He was frightened of the thought that he may have to live the rest of his life without her.

They stopped in the middle of the park, nowhere near their usual place to watch the fireworks, and Orihime rose.

She stepped forward with great difficulty, and slowly reached for his hands.

"Ichigo, I don't want to live without you."

"I don't care that it's hard to get treatment, because if I had to choose between my eyes and living with you…"

"I'd rather live with you." The end of her sentence marked the beginning of the celebrations.

Fireworks shot into the air, welcomed by the loud massive cheers. Lovers snuggled up to each other, families rejoiced with bright smiles that lit up the dark grounds.

Ichigo looked at Orihime. Her eyes maintained those glows that she possessed from birth even though they can't function anymore.

He held her by her shoulders and guided her face into the sky, gently describing the colours that he saw to her.

Ichigo knew what he should do now.

If her eyesight couldn't be revived, he will be her eyes instead.

As long as they stay together, till the very last Tanabata they live to celebrate.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed this little contribution to commemorate Tanabata for the pairing. As usual, I would like to apologize if there is any mistake in the fic, and comments are much appreciated!

Once again, thanks and have a nice day!

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